Valentine's Day. Nicola Marsh
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Where she’d first seen him.
But no, he’d been predictably absent.
Until now.
‘Guess he’s more interested than usual because they’re his segments.’ The producer tried to cover her gaffe.
Or he just wanted to see her without being seen.
Hopeless optimist.
‘Have I got time to go to the Ladies’?’ Georgia asked, out of nowhere, then tried to add veracity to her lie. ‘Nervous pee.’
The producer huffed. They’d just got her settled and all wired up. ‘If you’re quick.’
She scooted up out of her seat and crossed to the door without paying the tinted glass the slightest attention. Outside she turned right and walked in the opposite direction to the staff toilets.
She opened the next door without knocking.
‘Zander...’
He spun by the tinted glass in the half shadows. The studio on the other side was fully lit and much easier to see than he had been in reverse. She did her best to stay back in the shadows, out of view of gossipy eyes.
‘Georgia.’ He swallowed. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m good. And you?’
‘Good.’
Excellent. That meant they were both crap. ‘I wanted to ask you about the cheque.’
‘That money is yours. You shouldn’t be penalised for your thrift.’
Thrift. That made her sound about as exciting as a dusty old book. ‘Twenty thousand pounds, though?’
He shrugged. ‘You earned it. What will you do with it?’
She hadn’t let herself think. ‘Maybe back to Turkey?’
‘You should. See it properly.’
‘There’s so many options once you have actual money in your hands,’ she breathed.
‘You can do whatever you want. I hope you enjoy it.’
His sincerity struck her. And why not? She wouldn’t have fallen in love with a man who wasn’t genuinely lovely.
‘Why are you hiding in here?’ she asked.
‘I’m not hiding, I’m monitoring.’
‘That seems to have upset your staff.’
He smiled, not the slightest bit sorry. ‘I’m sure. Some of them are big on fame and short on accountability.’
Silence fell. Next door the work-experience girl reappeared with her cuppa and glanced around anxiously.
Georgia pushed away from the wall. ‘Well, I should go.’
‘Are you nervous?’ he asked.
Yes, and not just because she was going on air. ‘A bit. This is going to be hard for me.’
‘I’ve been very clear on the limitations. Anyone who mentions Bradford will be collecting unemployment next week.’
The kindness touched her. And his total obliviousness hurt her lungs. ‘Thank you.’
‘I heard about his new girlfriend,’ Zander risked. ‘How do you feel about that?’
Feel? ‘I’m happy for him.’
‘I worried for you. That you might—’
‘Take it personally?’
He dropped his eyes.
‘I’m not going to say I loved the implication of him finding someone so soon. That it must have been me that made the two of us a bad fit.’
‘That’s not how it works.’
‘Yeah, it does. Finding someone you can spend your life with is rare enough so the chances of both people finding that someone in each other...’ She left the rest unsaid. ‘Truly,’ she reassured. ‘He seems really content. It’s been a tough year for him but he’s found his reward.’
Zander stared. Breathed out slowly. ‘You’re a good person, Georgia Stone.’
She lifted her chin. ‘I know. I’d be my friend if I wasn’t already me.’
His lips parted in a classic Zander chuckle.
‘I’d better go. Your producer’s taking my absence out on your work-experience girl.’
He looked into the bright booth and she turned for the door. His voice stopped her just as she reached for the handle. ‘Georgia...’
She turned.
‘You’re looking good.’
No, she looked pretty much the same as she always did. With the exception of the grey smudges under her eyes that she’d worked hard to disguise. ‘Thank you.’
‘And you’re sounding good.’
She could easily have said something flippant, but these might be the last words they ever exchanged. She wanted them to count. ‘I am good. I’m finally doing what makes me happy. Regardless of what everyone else expects. It’s very...healthy.’
‘Healthy.’ He turned the word over on his lips. ‘It’s very compelling.’
Her chest tightened. Two minutes before going live on air was not the time to mess with a woman’s head. ‘See you later, Zander.’
Though, no, she wouldn’t. Not after today.
Today was the end.
She stepped back out into the full fluoro-brightness of the radio station and crossed back to her own studio. She smiled at the young girl who passed her a cup of tea as she walked in and let the producer set her up with her headphones and mic, again. And she did a cracking job of ignoring Zander’s presence. Even though she could barely see him now in the darkened studio next door, she felt his every breath.
The two announcers ran through a barrage of vocal warm-ups, which she figured were mostly for show, and she gave the young girl now inside the control box two thumbs up for a great cuppa.
Amazingly the hot drink did help, just slightly.
‘Thirty seconds,’ the producer announced over the studio loudspeaker, and the sudden sound of commercials filled the room. The announcers sat, smiled at her, and readied themselves.
Georgia took a deep breath and forced her mind off the man whose